174 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Feb. 8, 1913 
plieasants within a few hours after they are 
taken from the incubator. For the first few 
days they are given a boiled custard, made in 
the ])roi)ortion of six eggs to a pint of milk; 
after a day or two a small amount of corn- 
meal is added to this custard; and later, corn 
grits and fresh chopped beef. Flenip, mustard 
and canary seeds are also scattered in the pens, 
and after the chicks are a month old, wheat and 
charcoal are -added. Sand and green food, such 
as lettuce, kale and clover, are placed within 
reach of the birds at all times. 
After five weeks in the brooder, the birds 
are strong enough to be transferred to outside 
pens; and almost any time after they are eight 
weeks of age they are ready for liberation. 
-■\bout this time there is a tendency to pick 
each other's feathers, with the result that as 
soon as blood shows, the injured bird becomes 
an object of attack by all the other birds in 
the pen, and in most cases is killed. 
In securing eggs, the breeding birds were 
confined in small pens—one-male to five hens, 
except in two pens, where eight and ten hens 
respective!}- were confined. From both of 
these pens eggs were taken equaling in fertility 
those taken from the pens in which there was a 
lesser number of females. Experiments along 
this line will be carried on during the next 
summer. 
In raising pheasants it is very important to 
guard against the young birds' getting hold of 
any of the burrs of the burr-clover, as these 
burrs lodge in the throat, and. if not removed— 
an operation that may be performed with the 
aid of a small pair of physician's forceps—will 
cause death. 
Opposed to Spring Shooting. 
IvIadison, Wis., Dec. 28 . —Editor Forest and 
Stream: Every club represented in the Wiscon¬ 
sin Fish and Game Protective and Propagation 
League went on record as opposed to spring 
shooting of ducks and other game birds. 
E. T. S. 
Cold Facts and Dry Grins 
By MIQUE WEBB 
“There is little in life but labor; 
To-morrow that may be a dream. 
Success is the bride of endeavor 
And luck but a meteor’s gleam.” 
But 
Old Dame Fortune went to sleep one day 
And left her stores unguarded; 
I slipped in, wUh debts to pay, 
And with more than enough, departed. 
T FIE Old Dame was cruel to me. She watched 
my every effort, holding me down to the 
work bench, and seeing to it that the 
meteors gleamed often, but never rewarding my 
efforts when I tampered with the god of chance. 
One day I surprised her, however, winning a 
little more than was necessary for my immedi¬ 
ate needs. I shall always think the Old Lady 
was napping when I did it, for she has since 
been more careful. Money burns holes in the 
average man’s pockets, and I was no exception 
to the general rule. For fear of loss in this 
direction, I began to cast about for some way 
to rid myself of my troublesome surplus. Being 
an ardent disciple of Sir Izaak Walton, I de¬ 
cided to indulge my fancy and go a-fishing. 
Where? No short trip for me. I had money to 
burn. I was city-born and city-bred and had 
never seen a body of water larger than the 
Cumberland River, which ran by my home town. 
My fishing had been confined to its tributary 
streams in my locality, and to its muddy bosom, 
and I had never caught over half a dozen fish 
in one day in my life, the largest being a three- 
pound bass. 
A friend, who had just returned from a 
trip to Pass-a-Grille, on Tampa Bay, Florida, 
dropped in. He was full of his fishing ad¬ 
ventures. I spent half a day listening to his 
marvelous tales. He enthused me, and as I now 
had sufficient shekels, here was an opportunity 
to gratify my strongest desire. He, like my¬ 
self, was a land lubber, and this had been his 
first trip to salt water. He expatiated on his 
experiences with fish he had caught and fish he 
had seen, until I could hardly follow him. Their 
names were all new to me, and his descriptions 
were so graphic I could hardly give credence to 
his narrative. He mentioned mackerel, bluefish, 
drum, sheephead, angel-fish, sailors' choice, chan¬ 
nel bass, mango, snapper, grouper, cobia, grunts, 
pigfish, jewfish, shark, devilfish, sea-bats, whip- 
ray, sting-ray, sea pigeon, redfish and others too 
numerous to enumerate. 
A few days later I arrived in St. Petersburg. 
I spent one day outfitting and making arrange¬ 
ments for my trip to the Pass. My friend had 
kindly loaned me a large reel, capable of hold¬ 
ing 600 feet of line. He also offered the loan 
of an auger, but I declined. Beyond this I must 
buy all the balance of my tackle in St. Peters¬ 
burg. I looked up a hardware store, and I am 
going to say right here this hardware store had 
the best assortment of fishing tackle I ever saw. 
It was good, but I haven’t been all over the 
world, and may not be much of a judge. With 
the clerk’s advice, I soon had an outfit. When 
I was through with my purchases, I had two 
bamboo poles, one fourteen feet and the other 
twelve feet. No socket joints, but just straight 
canes, wrapped with flax in each joint, and in 
every other one a guide for the line. They were 
flexible and strong. I also had two Cuttyhunk, 
Irish linen lines, of 200 yards each; one fourteen 
strand and the other eighteen strand. These 
lines are practically non-breakable when a reel 
is used. The combined strength of a fish pull¬ 
ing against the thumb pressure of a fisherman on 
his reel using a Cuttyhunk of the sizes men¬ 
tioned will never break them, provided they are 
new and have not been rotted by water use. 
Salt water rots a line very quickly, unless it is 
thoroughly dried after use. I have always made 
it a practice to stretch my lines from tree to 
tree for an hour or two after wetting to keep 
them dry and strong. These lines cost six dol¬ 
lars each, but they were worth it. I also had 
hooks of all sizes from fly to lo-O. I have al¬ 
ways been partial to the straight Limerick, and 
all my selections were of this kind. I was told 
to use the wire snood. 1 had never seen any¬ 
thing of the kind before, having always used 
gut snoods at home. My hooks consequently 
were all eyelets. Many salt water fish have teeth, 
and wire must be used to prevent the line from 
being cut. My outfit was made complete with 
a spool of piano wire, sinkers of all sizes, swivels, 
a pair of good pliers, corks, etc. 
Snoods must now be made. A length of 
wire, about six inches long, is cut, and an eyelet 
is made in each end, linking the sections together ' 
by allowing each alternate eye to rest in the ■ 
other. Three links make a snood about eighteen 1 
inches long. I spent the better part of the night 1 
in making up snoods and had several dozen : 
ready for morning. 
I now had to make my arrangements to get I 
to the Pass. An enterprising jeweler had built i 
several cottages on the end of Long Key, which ’ 
is a bench of sand from too to 300 yards wide 
and several miles long, separating the gulf from 
the bay. Pass-a-Grille is the channel that admits 
the water from the gulf to the bay. It separates 
Long Key from Pine Key. The Pass itself is 
about half a mile wide at high tide. There are 
many of these passes, and many similar keys to 1 
Long Key. The landlubber calls them islands. I 
Pass-a-Grille is considered the best for fishing. 4 
The jeweler had selected the end of Long Key 
to build his sportsmen’s fishing camps, and was 
doing a thriving business renting them at one 
dollar per day. They were very nice three-room 
frame houses, with portico across the front fac¬ 
ing the bay. At the time of my trip there were 
three of these cottages. At present Pass-a-Grille 
is a thriving little town, with good hotels, clubs, I 
etc., and I understand still has good fishing. 
I wanted a cottage. I saw Gille, who gave ; 
me a large brass key with a still larger brass t 
plate attached, on which there was a number. ' 
He took my money in advance for a week’s rent, ! 
the whole transaction smacking loudly of the i ' 
hotel plan. He then made arrangements with 
a sail boatman and a cook, and I was to depart 
